The Kali Yuga is the age of the proverbial "End Times," except in Hindi. I think it's Hindi. It may be Pali. Anyway, these are the end times and what am I doing? I'm walking. Like Thoreau. Like a man with no wheels and nowhere to be. Like somebody lost in time and unemployed. With Eleanor strapped to my back - that's my style. Gangsta.
What I see on our father-daughter walks are things like electrical wires, telephone wires, babies' blocks, and ancient Mountain Dew cans dumped in the ditch. I say "hello" to these things. "Hello. These are the End Times. Are you enjoying yourself appropriately? I hope so. Have a good day." They do not respond. Eleanor falls asleep.
If I have a camera with me, I can take snapshots of the things I see on my walks. If not, the things I see will remain unphotographed by me. Somewhere there is a long list of all the things I never photographed.
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